


strawberries and hiding

by damnneovelvet



Series: to write or not to write [4]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Crush, Family Dinners, Flash Fic, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun is Whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnneovelvet/pseuds/damnneovelvet
Summary: Why must he try to squeeze Jaehyun dry in every way possible, this is ridiculous.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Series: to write or not to write [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913998
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	strawberries and hiding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suikadesu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suikadesu/gifts).



> this was supposed to be a quick 300 word thing like its nohyuck counterpart, but since it crossed 790 words, I decided to post it here for no valid reason other than I wanted to. dedicated to Nik because her memes prompted it.
> 
> unedited, and not something I would normally write lol, enjoy

If the God Jaehyun's mother heartily believes in were to descend into the mortal realm, and if he were a man, he would look like _this_.

 _This_ person in polished shoes that glint under the chandeliers, in a pressed, black suit with a shirt so white Jaehyun is sure his optician will have a field day leeching money from the Jeong family's wallets. 

Doyoung's smile below his parted hair is a direct attack.

It's not just his attire—the waistcoat, oh no, the waistcoat, Jaehyun's going to die of an aneurysm—but the way he carries himself that has everyone floored.

For a second, it is easy to forget that he is a son of the Jeong family, a man with prestige, not a blushing teenager.

The smile widens and it's corners twist as Doyoung stops to grasp the handles of a silver trolley. 

Jaehyun fears if his dessert will be poisoned today.

With actual toxin or just Doyoung's easy but sharp wit, he doesn't know. He will eat it regardless.

The empty plate is picked up and whisked away by unnamed hands before Jaehyun manages to pull his gaze away from the rigid line of that crafted spine.

Two large buttons sit where the small of his back should be.

If Jaehyun's fingers weren't trembling with the nervousness of a fluttering heart, he would reach out and search for the buttons that hold Doyoung's skin together. What will he find beneath those, he wonders, pink flesh or a sparkling, indomitable spirit?

The first memory he has of Doyoung is blurry, through the folds of a nightgown.

They were young, perhaps 12, and a boy with too much gum and a single green t-shirt had been left at their doorstep.

_Please, let me work here! I will do my best!_

Doyoung has always been something like a pendulum.

One extreme means a docile human with sensitivity that rips through the thickest of curtains in the mansion.

The other extreme is a person who carries words like artilleries. He keeps and keeps till he is hoarding then bursts.

Even then, he had been quick to win the favour of all the ladies at the residence. He often became something of a mother himself, especially whenever the younger children would crowd around freshly baked cookies in the guest kitchen downstairs.

Jaehyun wants to know what goes on in the limitless universe that Doyoung has created behind his eyelids. 

What does he dream about, what does he want from life, what is his favourite colour, where does he wasn't to live when he is dismissed of old age?

Jaehyun clears his throat.

Doyoung stands two steps away from him—within reach—and Jaehyun would rather end up in the hospital because of blue balls than beaten, blue balls.

He sniffs strawberries. 

The temptation to sit and eat while staring at Doyoung is strong. Jaehyun is a weak man because if he stays he will blurt things he cannot take back.

Not when his 5-year-old cousin is sitting right across him with a napkin tucked into his shirt.

"I need to go," Jaehyun whispers to his mother, "I promised John I'll be at his parents' today." She looks at him with uninterested eyes and Jaehyun is worried his mother will disown him before he gets to talk to Doyoung, then he remembers his ears. 

Treacherous red ears.

"Really?" She sets aside her spoon. Doyoung rolls up to her and she receives a plate of cake from him.

Plain cake. The strawberries must be Doyoung then. Jaehyun wants to spin unrestricted by gravity, round and round, till he hits a pillar and cracks.

He gulps.

"...Yes?" He looks at Doyoung from the corner of his eye. His mother catches the movement then grins like the devil she is.

"Wouldn't you stay and have dessert, at least? All your cousins are here, don't put little Doie to shame." Doyoung stiffens when he accidentally meets eyes with Jaehyun—and is that, is that liner? Is Doyoung dressed up like a butler born out of sensibilities and aesthetics for a simple family dinner? 

Why must he try to squeeze Jaehyun dry in every way possible, this is ridiculous. (Jaehyun secretly likes it but of course, he's never going to admit he's that much of a masochist.)

Then Doyoung smiles. It's a small thing, barely a decent curve but Jaehyun is flat-lining faster than a fish out of water, even faster than Mark when he sees muscled men.

"Wouldn't you like some?" Doyoung asks in his beautiful, amazing, soft voice upon the prodding by Jaehyun's mother.

Jaehyun nods, ears red.

When Doyoung places a glass plate in front of him, Jaehyun catches a whiff of citrus. Oh no.

He wants to hide under the table. 

He can't.

**Author's Note:**

> :D
> 
> // 
> 
> I would leave some links here but I'll do that later when I'm feeling more human.


End file.
